


Of Mettle and of Mould

by kittenmittens



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Vaike Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 03:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12498036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmittens/pseuds/kittenmittens
Summary: "You have nothing to fear." Frederick smiled a bit. “Lon’qu can take care of himself.”Vaike’s face went red, and he ran a hand through his hair. Frederick watched, amused, as he immediately tried to overcompensate. “Heh. Well, y’know. Everybody’s so far behind my skill set, it gets kinda hard not to worry. You all seem sowimpycompared to me.”---Vaike gets pregnant and handles it terribly. Lon'Qu goes from his babysitter, to something more.





	Of Mettle and of Mould

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a confession: I haven't actually even finished the game yet. This is my first Fire Emblem game and I was smitten with Vaike immediately, so of course I had to mess with him. Please let me know if anything is startling incorrect, of contradicts anything said in one of the supports, because I'm far from having seen them all. Secondly, Vaike's dialogue is going to resemble his spoken lines more, because I found his written ones to be a little inconsistent and... Scottish? sounding? So if that's why he sounds less like Shrek than usual, that's why. And finally, special thanks to my lovely beta, Your_Bones, who has not played Fire Emblem, and probably isn't very interested in it, but happily beta'd this anyway.

“I can’t believe you would do something like this,” Chrom growled, then raised his voice a bit. “You! Of all people!”

Ricken shrunk into himself guiltily. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think that would happen!”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought would happen,” Chrom insisted. “You don’t cast a spell on an ally without asking first!”

“I know.” Ricken swallowed, then leaned slightly to one side, peering at Vaike from around Chrom’s shoulder. “It was supposed to be a healing spell!” Chrom gave him an incredulous look and Ricken winced again. “At least, I think it was. So he’ll probably be okay.” He _did_ seemed dazed, leaning against the wall and blinking up at Miriel slowly. He wasn’t even trying to bother her! “Uh. Probably. Besides, I promise I’m not gonna try _that_ again anytime soon.”

“I still don’t know what was going through that head of yours,” Chrom said, prodding Ricken’s temple.

“It’s this tome.” Ricken sighed, flipping through it slowly. “It has to be ancient, and it has so many spells I’ve never even heard of. I thought some of them could be useful to us, but not if I had no idea what they did.”

“And you decided to use Vaike as a guinea pig,” Chrom concluded. He shook his head, letting out an aggravated groan. “You just said you don’t know what it’s supposed to do. What if you’d killed him?

“But I didn’t!” Ricken swallowed. “Besides, I was pretty sure it would be non-fatal. It’s ancient Plegian, but I can make out parts of it, especially the incantations. The spell I used was specifically to… “ He deflates a bit. “E-Er, well… I could only translate a few words. But it said something about ‘growth’ and ‘health.’ All the spells in this section are like that! I thought it might…” He winced again as Chrom’s glowering continued. “Th-That it might, um… h-help.”

“It doesn’t seem like you hurt him,” Chrom said slowly, “but we can’t be sure yet. We’ll have to wait and see if his condition gets worse.”

“I understand.” Ricken hung his head guiltily. “I’ll keep researching so I can try and translate it better.”

“Fine.” Chrom sighed. “But this isn’t the end of the discussion. You still have to be punished. And not just because of your age! I’m saying that as your superior, not as your _elder_.”

Ricken glanced over at Vaike again, who now seemed to be reciting—or, rather, slurring—prose to a disgusted Miriel. “I know.”

 

*

 

“Did you find anything yet?”

Ricken looked up from his papers, then glanced aside nervously. “Yes, and… ”He let his shoulders slump. “Uh, Yes and no.”

Miriel leaned over the table, studying his scrolls carefully. “Hm. This type of magic may be more Libra’s strong suit than mine, but I’d be happy to lend a hand if you need it.”

“Really?” Ricken fiddled with his sleeve sheepishly. “You don’t have to. The last thing I need is to inconvenience anyone else.”

“Nonsense,” Miriel insisted, pulling a chair from an adjacent table and sitting next to Ricken. “Besides: Vaike may be feeling more like himself, but the ballads he’s written about his exploits haven’t gotten any more bearable.”

Ricken smiled awkwardly. “At least he seems to be getting better.”

Miriel shrugs. “For now. We still don’t know what you did to him. Those symptoms might reappear, and he could wind up delirious again.” She pulled the tome towards her, squinting at the text. “Was it always like this?”

Ricken leaned over more, trying to see what she meant. “Like what?”

Miriel ghosted her fingers over the words. “A darker color. See?” Sure enough, the rest of the ink was a bright, royal blue, but the words of the spell Ricken used had become a dark, dull navy.

Ricken raised his eyebrows in surprise, exclaiming, “No! It was just like the rest of the spells.” He’d come a long way in mastering the spells he already knew, but he didn’t understand what might be at play here. A tome might break or crumble after a spell inside of it had been used countless times in battle, but to have a single spell fade like this, after only one use? At least in Ricken’s experience, it was unheard of. “What happened?”

After staying quiet for a few moments, Miriel admitted, “I have a hunch.” Ricken looked up at her in surprise. “It’s extremely rare, and especially unheard of in a tome as old as this one, but in ancient times, a magic user with one true desire might imbue a huge quantity of their magic ability into a single spell. To think it survived for this long…” She swallowed. “It must have been quite an important incantation.”

Ricken swallowed nervously, mumbling, “We’d better find a translator.”

 

*

 

“Scho yurr schtill tryin’ ta figurr oud whad dat schpell wusch?” Vaike chewed noisily for a few seconds, then swallowed his mouthful of bread. “I dunno why you’re botherin’. I feel great! Better than ever!” Libra finally gave the okay for Vaike to be released from the healer’s wing, and since then, it was mutually agreed he’d become even more insufferable than usual.

“If only Tharja weren’t away,” Ricken muttered, combing a hand through his hair thoughtfully as he stared down at the tome. Miriel and Henry sat on either of his sides, and Vaike, after frowning in confusion, plopped down opposite from them.

“Even if she were here, she could be unable to translate Plegian script this ancient,” Miriel pointed out.

Henry chuckled, placing an elbow on the table and resting his cheek in his hand. “And knowing her, I’m sure she’d want some form of compensation. And since I know you won’t let me blackmail her…” Ricken and Miriel lifted their heads, giving him looks of disapproval. Pouting, Henry insisted, “Blackmail doesn’t matter! As long as the other person cooperates… ”  

“If only we knew someone who studied ancient languages,” Miriel sighed.

“Or someone who…” Ricken gazed across the mess hall tiredly, then jumped in surprise. “Gods!” He slapped his forehead in frustration. “It’s been so obvious.” He left the table, then returned a minute later with Nowi tailing him. “Nowi, this might be kind of a stretch, but…” Grabbing the tome, he held it up for her. “Do you think you could translate any part of this text?”

Nowi studied it for a second, then replied, “No!” The three mages simultaneously slumped, only to jump up when Nowi added, “I can translate all of it!” They gathered around the Manakete, studying the tome with new intensity as she spoke. “This whole page… It’s all spells for helping sick people. But the one in the middle’s different. It’s written really…” She paused. “It’s really specific!” Clearing her throat, she rolled her shoulders, apparently psyching herself up, then read, “Fertility. Strong Growth. Perfect health. A safe pregnancy and birth.” The tables around the group went quiet, a few people glancing over in confusion at the sound of Nowi’s voice. Vaike froze mid-bite, then swallowed noisily. “For my dear Firrehl. Our struggle to have a child will not be in vain. I have fused a piece of my magic into this incantation. It may be performed only once, but that is all that will be needed. I may lose all talent for magic, but it will be worth it to bring you this ultimate happiness, dear one. Your beloved Runelis.” Nowi paused, and all three mages exchanged alarmed looks. “Aww!” Nowi passed the tome back to Ricken, smiling. “How sweet!”

Vaike spooned more potatoes into his mouth, chewing almost nervously. “Lucky somethin’ like that wouldn’t affect a guy. ‘Specially who’s totally ripped, tough as nails. Y’know, _me_ , basically.” He sat up nervously, slowly putting his fork down when no one gave him an answer. “… Right?”

 

* 

 

As it turns out, against quite a lot of evidence to the contrary, it could affect Vaike. And, after every test the Shepherds’ medical ward could think to perform, it seemed obvious it _did_ affect Vaike. At first, he'd been insistent the spell was just, in his words, "something to get this Firrehl lady primed to start having kids", and therefore, could only “mess with” body parts he did not have. But when every single pregnancy test came back positive, and after a medical exam so invasive Vaike complained through its entirety, not only was a second heartbeat discovered, but several remarkable changes to Vaike’s anatomy as well.

When the news was confirmed, Vaike was quieter than the rest of the Shepherds had ever seen him. However, once the period of what Miriel called shell-shock passed, Vaike seemed to sink immediately into denial, acting as though nothing had happened.

"What I don't understand," Ricken whispered to Henry as they sat in the courtyard one afternoon, "is how this happened."

"Ooh!" Henry smirked. "Are you pretending you didn't do it? Covering your own tracks? Very smart. If you need to get rid of any evidence, just come to me."

Ricken shook his head. He was becoming rather desensitized to Henry's grim tangents. "No. I mean, I know that I did it." He swallowed. "And I'm not particularly proud of myself."  It wasn’t easy to admit, but Ricken was pretty sure it was the most reckless, foolish thing he’d let himself do in a very long time. (Although, he wasn’t counting any number of questionable spells he’d tried using to increase his own height.) "But I was studying the incantation. You know, after Nowi drew up me that ancient Plegian alphabet. And the words, they all imply it's...” Ricken furrowed his brow, trying to work out how to word what he was trying to say. “Well, it wasn't meant to make a baby out of nothing."

"And yet..." Henry nodded subtly towards Vaike, who was tearing into one of the training dummies, likely taking out some frustrations. "Here we are."

"All right," Ricken sheepishly corrected himself. "It was, and it wasn't. What I'm trying to say is, the spell creates a fertile environment for an infant to grow. But it the way the script is written, along with the dedication..." A blush spread over Ricken's cheeks and he ducked his head, mumbling, "It meant that both the mother and father-to-be were...  Well, they had to have already been… intimate."

Henry's face lit up with pure, devilish glee. "Oh, _my."_

*

At first, only Chrom, Miriel, Henry, and Ricken knew of Vaike's condition, along with a royal doctor Chrom had brought from the palace. Later, and with some reluctance from Vaike, Libra was informed so he could oversee the Vaike’s health as the pregnancy progressed. But after a month or so of Vaike carrying on as though things were exactly as they had been, and an admission wrestled out of the Shepherd that he would prefer to carry to term instead of attempting the risky and potentially life-threatening procedure required to counteract such strong, ancient magic, the rest of the troops were informed. For the safety of parent and child, Chrom during the emergency assembly, and Vaike had given him an uncharacteristic look of disgust.

"He doesn't look any different," Lissa whispered to Chrom after the meeting. "Are you positive this isn't some really weird prank?" She lowered her voice even more. "I wouldn't put it past Vaike to... " She giggled. "Well, let's just say, it wouldn't surprise me if something this weird was the best he could come up with."

"Oh, no." Chrom shook his head. "Trust me, Lissa. I was there when it happened."

"I can hear you, y'know," grumbled Vaike from an adjacent table. He kept fiddling with a puzzle box, though everyone was well aware he wasn’t the problem-solving type. It seemed obvious to all the Shepherds that he was desperate for something to distract himself, and had simply grabbed on to the first thing available.

"Sorry, Vaike." Lissa winced guiltily. "It's just... a lot to take in."

"Yeah?" Vaike huffed, poking at one of the cube's pieces moodily. "No argument here. How do you think _I_ feel?"

Smiling sympathetically, Chrom got up from his seat, placing a hand lightly on Vaike's shoulder. His intent was likely to be misinterpreted, thanks to Vaike's one-sided rivalry, but Chrom knew it was important that he make it. "Well, at least you get to take a temporary retirement."

"Ha, ha, ha." Vaike rolled his eyes. "Very funny." He glared up at Chrom for a moment, then furrowed his brow, looking suddenly concerned. "Wait, are you... Are you serious?"

Lissa and Chrom exchanged worried looks, prompting Chrom to timidly respond. "Um. Yes?"

"You mean you're not gonna let me _fight_ , either?" Vaike looked utterly panicked, as if the thought never occurred to him. Actually, Chrom realized, it probably _hadn't._

Lissa bristled in disbelief. "Whuh-- Of _course_ not!"

Chrom backed up slowly, then whispered under his breath to Frederick, "Looks like we're going to have to make room in our schedules for babysitting duty."

Much to the surprise of those near him, Frederick actually chuckled.

 

 

Three months had passed since the incident, and most of the Shepherds forgot about Vaike’s condition. And then Vaike began to look… swollen. It might have been easy to disguise, if it weren’t for his insistence on not wearing a shirt. He also kept wearing his armor, as challenging Chrom, and anyone else who played a role in keeping him off the battlefield, to try and prove he _wasn’t_ still in fighting shape.

“I’m ready to go any time you need me!” he had insisted. “Just as soon as you guys come to your senses. Bet you really miss the feelin’ of Ol’ Teach having your back out there.”  His increasingly softened appearance only seemed to make his statements sound more ridiculous. The heavy, metal collar he wore made the slight expansion of his chest more evident, and his lack of a shirt showed off the small-but-growing curve of his belly. Still, it seemed like he was refusing to let any of this bother him. At first, anyway.

“I can’t believe it.” Maribelle found Vaike curled up miserably in the lounge. “My abs are _disappearing!”_

“If you’re going to get this upset about your body changing, I’d suggest you pace yourself.” Maribelle smirked, clearly enjoying her fellow Shepherd’s torment. “It’s bound to get worse from here.”

Vaike swallowed noisily. “You’re jokin’, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love to think so,” Maribelle said. “For all your time spent peeping on the women’s bathhouses, you still understand very little about the female form.”

“S-So?” Vaike stumbled to his feet, face reddening. “What’s that got to do with me?”

Maribelle’s smirk grew, and she elegantly flipped one long, blonde curl over her shoulder. “I haven’t heard of many men being in your condition.” She gave a fake, exaggerated gasp. “Come to think of it, I believe you’re the first. So, what does the female form have to do with you? Well, a woman’s body is suited for childbirth. A man’s, on the other hand…”

Vaike squinted in confusion. “You sayin’ this is gonna kill me or somethin’?”

Maribelle glared—apparently, she did not take kindly to Vaike’s slow uptake ruining her speech. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Like I said, it’s obvious you admire the way that women’s bodies look. Luckily for you, I’m sure you’ll have a stunning example all your own by the time this is through.”

“Whuh…” Vaike’s eyebrows knitted together and he kept giving Maribelle that bewildered look as he tried to decipher what she was implying.

“Honestly.” In lieu of groaning, Maribelle let out an impatient huff. “Listen. Do you ever notice a certain type of woman who shops at the castle courtyard? The ones with a gaggle of children, usually with more on the way? Rather soft, and _well-fed_.” It seemed a very proper way of referring to them as ‘fat and happy.’ “I’d get used to the thought of looking like them if I were you.”

Vaike’s eyes bugged out of their sockets, and all the blood drained from his face. His jerked down as he gawked at his stomach, which, while still barely protruding, had lost all signs of musculature. “You’re tellin’ me I’m gonna…” His hand sheepishly went over his stomach, then mimed clutching at a stomach the size of a boulder. He lifted his head and, for a second, it looked like he was ready to tear into Maribelle angrily. But he seemed to lose his nerve after a second, instead staying and utterly shell-shocked.

“Don’t worry,” Maribelle cooed, patting him on the head as she skirted around him. “I’m sure you’ll make a _lovely_ mother.”

 

*

 

"Somebody's got to tell him."

Ricken drummed his fingers nervously against the wall, peering around the edge of the doorframe at Vaike, then pulling himself away, hopefully before he was spotted. "We kept this to ourselves for way too long, but…” He swallowed. “I just don't know how we're supposed to say something this personal... _out loud._ "

Panne rolled her eyes. "This is stupid. I'll tell the big oaf myself."

"No!" Ricken grabbed Panne's arm suddenly, then froze in horror, pulling his hands back at the murderous look the Taguel gave him. "S-Sorry." He picked at the skin on his wrist nervously. "It's just... I feel like this is something _we_ shouldn't know to begin with. It's bad enough that everyone in the garrison knows about Vaike being pre..." He trailed off uncomfortably.

"You can't say it, huh?" Henry chuckled. "I know, it sounds so weird. It's hysterical! Vaike. _Pregnant_. And here we all were, thinking it would be a miracle if he managed to find a _woman_ he could knock up."

"You could be a little more sensitive," Ricken chided. So far, he had only divulged his recent discovery to Henry, and later, Miriel. Panne he hadn’t told, necessarily; it was more that the Taguel had unnervingly good hearing. And after Ricken spent a good ten minutes, babbling in gibberish and trying to calm his nerves enough to spit it out, he explained to all of them that a piece of both the father and mother were needed in order for the spell to be successful.

And, since the spell was cast on Vaike while he was standing all on his own in the training field, but still managed to _work_ , it must mean that the... _substance_ was already... _present._

To put it simply, as Miriel had summarized after Henry nearly fell unconscious, Vaike had likely slept with someone—a _male_ someone—before the spell had been cast. And, thanks to the nature of magic, and the fact that the entire barracks had believed the spell itself was the only culprit when it came to Vaike's pregnancy, the father of Vaike's child was likely just as unaware as Vaike himself.

"It'd be easier to be... " Henry paused, making quotations with his fingers. "What was it? 'Sensitive'? If i were less entertained."

"You know what?" Ricken barely managed to speak louder than a mumble, but hopefully it was determined sounding. "It's my fault. I'll tell him."

The young mage walked into the lounge room with all the care and nervousness of someone entering a Plegian warlord’s palace. But Ricken finally managed to get his meaning through to Vaike after nearly a minute of flustered stuttering. Vaike laughed, nodded, _then_ seemed to realize what he’d just been told. His smile vanished and he stared dumbly up at the mage.

“No kiddin’?” he asked weakly, and Ricken nodded.

At that, Vaike turned completely scarlet.

 

*

 

Vaike sat alone in the mess lately, mostly because he seemed to disappear as soon as anyone else tried to join him at a table. There had been a question of why he stayed in the barracks, instead of taking a leave of absence, given that he couldn’t fight, and he didn’t seem thrilled about his friends watching his condition progress. But as Frederick pointed out, a man of Vaike’s ego, returning to his hometown in his current state, especially when he’d vowed to make a great hero of himself…

Well, even the others could see how that would be humiliating.

A week had passed since the mages (and Panne) had spoken to Vaike about the child’s parentage, and no one had revealed themselves as the other piece of the puzzle so far. Ricken knew that, of course, it was Vaike’s business, and Vaike’s alone. On top of that, none of them really wanted to ask him about it. Besides, even if he had told the other parent himself, that person had yet to step forward and reveal themselves. Henry suggested simply announcing that anyone who had slept with Vaike might be connected to the child, but the other mages repeatedly reminded him that wasn’t acceptable behavior.

Then, one day, after sitting pitifully by himself for most of lunch, Vaike clambered suddenly to his feet, startling everyone. He left his food behind, hand lifting for a second and hovering by his middle, almost like he wanted to place it on his stomach. It was had grown a little rounder than before, and these days he always looked his stomach was distended from just finishing a huge meal. But after a moment, he stopped himself, dropping his arm and making a fist at his side. The whole room seemed to notice, and though the conversing didn’t stop, it took on a hushed tone. Vaike looked like he’d become aware of this, and he hunched his shoulders uncomfortably, walking slowly, almost apprehensively, towards another table at the far end of the hall.

Then, much to everyone’s shock, he sat down directly across from Lon’qu.

Ricken let out a horrified squeak as everyone at his table leaned subtly towards them, apparently trying to hear as much as possible.

“Uh. Hey.” Ricken watched from the corner of his eye as Vaike squirmed, like he was trying to hold back the urge to bolt. “You think we could… Talk? For a sec?”

Lon’qu swallowed, glancing around the hall. Several people, who had turned to look directly at him and Vaike, quickly looked away. Solemnly, he nodded. “Mm.”

He got to his feet, slowly following Vaike out of the mess and into the barracks.

“Wait.” Ricken froze. Why was everyone quiet? He jumped to his feet. “Why were all of you staring?” Only the mages, Panne, and Vaike himself knew all the details when it came to Vaike’s pregnancy—that another person was involved—and the four of them had promised not to tell a soul.

Unless…

Ricken turned to Henry, horrified.

“What?” Henry smiled innocently. “I _had_ to spill the beans. I don’t know _what_ I’d do if things started to get boring around here.”  

 

*

 

"I've got to admit," Chrom whispered to Frederick, "Out of everyone who could’ve been the, uh... " He paused. It was a bit confusing, referring to both Lon’qu and Vaike as 'the father' of the child. Maribelle had enthusiastically suggested they call Vaike the mother, but Chrom felt he'd already irritated the warrior plenty. "I just mean that I didn't expect the... _other_ parent to be him."

"Nor did I, Milord." They both watched as Lon’qu stuck to Vaike's side with an almost magnetic persistence.

Ever since Vaike had come clean, Lon’qu hadn't left Vaike alone for more than a minute. Vaike loudly and confidently insisted it was because Lon’qu knew he could 'pick up a few pointers just by watching, even though Teach has been suspended', but the Chrom was more surprised by just how protective Lon’qu could be. He’d warmed up to Vaike after a few battles, but used to seem almost constantly annoyed by the other man’s antics. (And that wasn’t even taking into account the harvest festival incident; Chrom was still reeling over the fact that the rumor apparently had some truth to it.) Lon’qu’s sudden attachment and even-tempered attitude almost seemed like it was too good to be true, given that no one was paying him to spend time with Vaike. At least, not as far as Chrom could tell.

"Look at them." Chrom laughed as Lon’qu grabbed a napkin, dabbing at a squirming Vaike's face as though he were a child. "At least we know one of them is good at taking care of people. Although, I've got to admit: I'm surprised Lon’qu's become so patient with him." The Gods knew Chrom wasn’t always so immune to Vaike’s pestering.

"He has good incentive to be," Frederick replied. Lon’qu seemed to say something, concerned, and Vaike just laughed in response. The swordsman frowned—more than usual, at least—and placed a palm against Vaike's swollen middle. Vaike's face grew pink and he shied away, but didn't move so far that Lon’qu's hand fell.

"Vaike's _actually_ embarrassed," muttered Chrom. "I never thought I'd live to see the day. It’s bizarre."

“Like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.” Frederick snorted, then shrugged. "It’s not a bad look for him, but I wouldn’t get used to it if I were you.”

 

* 

 

“Y’know, I just realized somethin’.” Vaike sat sprawled out on his bed, his back resting against the headboard. In a show of generosity, Chrom had decided to temporarily lend his private quarters to Vaike, choosing to spend the time that he did sleep in the barracks bunked with the rest of the Shepherds. “This isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought!”

“Hm.” Lon’qu sat on the foot of the bed, letting Vaike force his legs onto his lap without any protest. “Why?”

Vaike shrugged. “Uh, duh. Isn’t it obvious?” He grinned. “Finally got me a pupil who’s gonna _have_ to take all the stuff I say to heart. Y’know. Unlike some people.”

“I already told you, we’re meant to be equals,” Lon’qu muttered, placing a hand on Vaike’s ankle despite his irritated tone. “We tied.”

“There’s no ‘tieing’ in fighting!” Vaike sat up after a tiny struggle, middle apparently weighing him down. “ _The Vaike_ beat you into the ground. I mean, why else did I find you ‘drowning your sorrows’ afterwards?”

Lon’qu let out an irritated growl. “That had nothing to do with you.”

“Whatever.” Vaike held up his hands, like he was proposing a truce. “My point is, now you don’t _have_ to be my student.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Lon’qu grumbled, “even if you had beaten me.”

“I did. No big deal, though.”

“You didn’t,” Lon’qu deadpanned. “Besides. I have nothing to learn from someone like you.”

“You kiddin’?” Vaike pulled his legs back and crossed them clumsily. “You had so much potential! I coulda taught you stuff that woulda blown your mind.”

“I’m not a child,” Lon’qu muttered. “I’m not even younger than you.”

Vaike winked. “Never too late to learn somethin’ new.”

Lon’qu stared at the wall blankly. “I know enough.”

Vaike was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Huh. Well, guess we wouldn’t be in this whole mess if you hadn’t looked so desperate for Teach’s mentorship.”

“Or if you hadn’t challenged me. Or bothered me after. Many times after.” The swordsman’s tone was irritated, but, contradicting himself, he wrapped an arm around Vaike’s thick shoulders and pulled him up against his side.

 

*

 

“You guys are _crazy!”_

Frederick winced, tightening his arms under Vaike’s and practically dragging him backwards.

“What if they need me out there?” Vaike grunted, trying again to pull himself free of Frederick’s grip. “Ahh, who am I kidding.” He paused, then writhed even harder. “Of course they’re gonna need me out there! It’s _me_ we’re talkin’ about!”

“Chrom forbade it,” Frederick stated, keeping as steady a voice as he could with Vaike squirming against him. “You’re in no condition to fight.”

“Am too!” Vaike finally seemed to tire a bit, slumping and going still. “F-For all you know, I’ve just been holding back. Yeah!” He swallowed. “I’ve been taking it easy til now, just so you guys didn’t feel bad. But lucky for you, ol’ Teach is gonna cut loose, just as soon as you let me go.”

“You must think I’m _very_ stupid.” Frederick rolled his eyes. “Listen. I’m sure you’re worried. Probably more about damaging your ego, than the welfare your friends—“ Vaike wrinkled his nose irritably. “But either way. If you went out there, and something were to happen to you, the baby may be injured as well, or _worse_.” Frederick’s voice took on a soft tone. “I know this wasn’t your choice. I know you’re like this now because it was the safest option, and the decision you had to make was based on your health, and not on whether or not you wanted the responsibility of a baby.” Perhaps it was his imagination, but he felt that Vaike was, for once, listening, so he loosened his hold just slightly. “But if you care about this child _at all_ , you’ll stay put.”

Vaike went silent, staring at the floor as Frederick slowly pulled his arms away.

“They can take care of themselves just fine. All of them.” Frederick smiled a bit. “Especially Lon’qu.”

Vaike’s face went red, and he ran a hand through his hair. Frederick watched, amused, as he immediately tried to overcompensate. “Heh. Well, y’know. Everybody’s so far behind my skill set, it gets kinda hard not to worry. You all seem so _wimpy_ compared to me.”

“Hm. I’m sure.” Frederick’s tone was sour, but he still gave Vaike’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

 

*

 

“Ooh, sure! They can take care of themselves just fine!” Vaike paced outside the medical ward, fidgeting irritably. “Yeah _right_.”

After a long time of that—the warrior stomping back and forth down the hall, and most of the other Shepherds avoiding the area—Libra stepped out in front of Vaike. “Oh. You’re still here.”

“Whuh?” Vaike laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Oh, well… Y’know. Not like I have anything better to do.”

Libra cocked an eyebrow just slightly. “… Of course.” There was an awkward pause before the healer continued. “Well, he’s doing much better now. You can see him, if you like.”

Vaike rolled his shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “I mean, I _guess_ I could do that. Since I’m already here.” He froze, glancing back at Libra, trying to make sure the priest hadn’t caught on.

“… He insisted on taking the bed at the end.” Libra gestured for Vaike to head inside and Vaike nodded, skirting through the door with an almost excited air. As he got close to the swordsman, he slowed down, hesitantly approaching him. After looking around to make sure they were alone, he dragged a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down.

“How’re you, uh… “ Vaike swallowed, shifting awkwardly. “You feelin’ okay?”

Lon’qu was quiet for a second before mumbling, “I failed.”

“Pff. What? Failed? No, you didn’t.” Vaike scooted closer, but Lon’qu turned his head away. “You’re still alive, aren’tcha? That means you must’ve done somethin’ right.”

Lon’qu sighed. “Someone defeated me. I couldn’t stop them.”

“So?” Vaike adjusted himself again. He never felt all too comfy sitting in any position these days. “That’s why everybody else was there. I mean, sure, that’s not as good as havin’ _me_ around, but—“

“You could’ve been hurt.” Lon’qu whispered. “Because of me.”

“Uh.” Vaike shrugged, straightening up as much as he could and placing a hand over the curve of his belly, not really even realizing it. “If I was gonna get hurt, I’m pretty sure it’d be thanks to somebody comin’ after me with a sword, and not ‘cuz you got whacked so hard you passed out.”

Lon’qu gazed up at the ceiling, as if he couldn’t understand how Vaike missed whatever weird point he was trying to make. Then, after a few seconds of silence, he smiled, even making a few noises that may or may or may not have been laughter.

“And, hey!” Vaike grinned. “I’ll get you on my old recovery regimen. It’ll get you back on your feet in no time!” He leaned forward, wiggling on the stool one last time. “Heh. Don’t worry. Vaike’s not gonna be _too_ tough on you.”

Lon’qu barely winced when Vaike cheerfully punched his bandaged shoulder, only letting out a monotone, “Ow.”

 

*

 

“I have to admit, I was a little… concerned,” Cordelia said. She and Frederick stood outside the town armory, watching the commotion in the square.

“About Vaike?” Stahl glanced towards her.

“Yes.” Cordelia nodded. “Well… Rather, I was worried about his caretaking abilities.”

“Because he’s…  forgetful?” Stahl put it quite generously.

“He’d forget his foot if it weren’t attached,” Cordelia noted dryly. “Picturing him looking after an infant has given me nightmares.”

“Lon’qu would be helping,” Stahl pointed out. “Er... Hopefully.”

Cordelia gazed out across the courtyard, and the smallest of smiles crept onto her face. They had brought Vaike along with them, though going to the armory was more of a glorified errand than the mission she knew the warrior craved. Still, he had seemed high-strung and almost nervous since Lon’qu’s injury, and Chrom suggested it might be good for him to get out of the barracks. “If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll feed you to Panne next time she’s in an even fouler mood than usual. But…” She trailed off, getting a distant look on her face for a moment before she finally added, “I was wrong.”

Stahl studied Cordelia, somewhat surprised. “Really?” He turned to watch with her as Vaike sprinted around the square (at least, to the best of his ability), tailed by several children and laughing like a maniac. He pretended to trip and fall, groaning as he let the children clamber on top of him and pin him to the ground. Stahl laughed. “I think I see what you mean. For example, I guess this is probably only time he’ll admit to losing a fight.”

“Among other things. Did you know he told Nowi he’s looking forward to it? Being a parent, that is.” The Manakete was thrilled by the prospect of having a child to play with—Cordelia could only assume it was because the thought of a companion who had her maturity level thrilled her. She let out a soft gasp, stepping forward in concern as one of the younger girls fell and scraped her knee. The child struggled back up, sitting on the cobblestone in a daze before throwing her head back and starting to wail. Almost as soon as she did, Vaike wriggled out from under the other children, rushing to her and kneeling in front of her. Cordelia smiled in earnest. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see how it all turns out.”

Vaike lifted the girl gently into his arms, holding her until her mother came rushing over. Stahl grinned, too. “I don’t know. I know it’s exactly your strong suit, but I think you’re right to be optimistic.”

 

 *

 

“You’re… wearing a shirt,” Virion noted.

“Huh?” Vaike glanced down, as if said garment had appeared on him without his knowledge. “Oh, yeah! … Sure am.”

“Any particular reason?” Virion’s gaze trailed slowly down, then back up Vaike’s frame. “Not that I couldn’t venture a guess.” During the final few months of his pregnancy, his stomach had grown to the point where his condition was undeniable. His chest had become so engorged, it stopped resembling anything masculine. And, as far as female anatomy went, Vaike’s example was quite impressive. Even his hips and thighs seemed wider. Since he’d held out on covering his “warrior’s physique” for as long as he could, everyone in the garrison was relieved when Vaike emerged from the barracks with his top half unexposed.

“Yeah, uh…” Vaike shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Virion slowly brushed his hair over his shoulder with the back of his hand, glancing at Vaike out of the corner of his eye. “Something the matter?”

Vaike hesitated, as if he was considering whether he really wanted to discuss these things with Virion. Oh, honestly. Virion didn’t think he was _that_ bad. “K-Kinda.”

“You’re so timid, dear!” Maribelle smirked as she trotted down the hall towards them, tilting her head thoughtfully. “How very unlike you.”

“I got a lot on my mind, okay?” Both Maribelle and Virion exchanged incredulous looks, to which Vaike responded indignantly. “I do! Seriously!”

“Too few sweets in the mess hall?” Maribelle guessed. “Ooh! Did you misplace something more important than an axe, this time? Say, that practice child Libra gave you?”

“Hey! That was a sack of grain.” Vaike pouted. “I figured that out in, like, two seconds.”

Maribelle and Virion turned towards each other, exasperated, and Virion let out a soft groan, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Never mind that,” the Lord insisted. “What’s troubling you?”

Vaike fidgeted a bit before finally admitting, “Lon’qu’s not talkin’ to me.” He groaned miserably. “I dunno what he’s mad about!”

“Lon’qu doesn’t speak much to begin with,” Maribelle pointed out. “Are you certain he wasn’t just… being himself?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Vaike snapped.

“At this point, I suppose you’d know better than the rest of us,” Virion admitted.

Maribelle frowned in concern. She was quiet for a moment or two, but then, all of a sudden, seemed to come to a realization. “I think I know what the problem is.”

Vaike tugged at the hem of his shirt—he’d been fussing with it a lot, apparently that unused to wearing one—and looked at Maribelle. “What?”

“Does he seem confused around you?” Maribelle ventured. “Or rather, uncomfortable? Almost _fearful?_ ” She gestured to herself, miming over her cheeks. “Does he grow red in the face whenever he gazes upon you?”

“Yeah!” Vaike straightened up. “How’d you know?”

Maribelle brought her fingers to her mouth, giving the slightest noise of amusement. Then, after another moment, she let out a genuine laugh. “Oh, dear.” She shook her head. “Do you remember our talk a few months ago?” Vaike gave her a very blank look. Rolling her eyes, she elaborated. “The one about the _motherly_ women who spend their days at the market, and how you might grow to _resemble_ them?”

Vaike gave her a flat, unamused look. “… _Yes.”_

“And what’s the one thing Lon’qu is terrified of?”

Vaike blinked. “Oh yeah! Women! _”_ He laughed. “I never got that! Outta all the different things you could be scared of, how come he picked _that?_ I always told him he was missin’ out. Girls are _great_ , even if all you can do is look at ‘em. But he— ” A little too late, the realization finally struck him. “Oh.”

Maribelle laughed again, and this time, Virion couldn’t help but join in.

 

* 

 

Vaike put on extra layers after that, disguising more of his body, although the bulge of his stomach could no longer be hidden, and was still apparent under his longer, looser tunics. After Lon’qu started avoiding Vaike, the rest of the barracks soon worked out the truth, and a small circle had gathered around Vaike in the lounge.

"You should probably just give him some space," Ricken suggested. "I'm sure he'll try to talk to you as soon as he's ready."

"Maybe you bind chest?" Gregor chimed in. "This is what women of Gregor's homeland do, especially when they are of well endowing. Would make you appear simply as very fat man." The rest turned to give him looks with varying degrees of distaste. "What? This would solve problem, no?"

Vaike groaned, hunching forward—to the extent his stomach would let him, at least—and cradling his head in his hands. "This is just _great_. Bad enough I look like one of Maribelle's fat market ladies, now I can't even talk to my... " Vaike trailed off, and everyone held their breath. It... wasn't really clear what Vaike would call Lon’qu. Partner? Lover? "My… _bud_ without him wantin' to pass out."

Cordelia snorted to herself. "I suppose it's better than 'sparring companion.'"

"I don't even know what you guys are talking about!" Nowi rocked back and forth on her seat, clutching her knees, as if sitting for this long was trying her patience. "Lonky never gets scared when it's just him and me! We can talk to each other just fine."

Ricken grimaced. "'Lonky'?"

"It's a new nickname I've been trying out," Nowi explained confidently, then clenched her fist near her heart. "He doesn't like it, but I'm wearing him down!"

"Difference here is being obvious to Gregor!" Gregor argued. "Sword-Man has fears of women, no? Nowi is looking like very small, young, flat-chested girl."

Nowi squeaked indignantly. "Hey!"

Cordelia shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, I believe Vaike has us _all_ outclassed in that category."

"H-Hey!" Vaike whined. "Seriously! That's one achievement that Teach don't _want."_

"I still say you just need to give him time." Ricken sighed, smoothing his robe thoughtfully. "Whatever happened to make him so traumatized by women, it's probably going to take a lot of work for him to overcome it. You have to be patient."

"He'd better hurry up, though!" Nowi grinned, hopping to her feet and giving Vaike's belly a playful pat. Vaike scooted away from her, looking scandalized. "Vaikey doesn't have a whole buncha time left."

 

 *

 

Lon’qu steeled himself, staring bleakly at the door to Vaike’s quarters before finally stepping inside. Vaike reacted in surprise, struggling to sit up quickly. He opened his mouth, about to speak, then seemed to think better of it (possibly, for the first time ever), pressing his lips together and going sheepishly still. Lon’qu felt like the Ylissean was trying not to scare him away, as if he were some sort of small, skittish woodland creature.

Growling in annoyance, Lon’qu trudged over to the bed where Vaike was seated. “I’m—“ He cut himself off with a choking sound, then clamped his mouth shut. “I… I, uh…”

“I-It’s okay!” Vaike swallowed, smoothing the covers underneath him nervously. “You don’t have to try and talk about it. Maribelle told me what’s goin’ on.” He looked miserable. “Everybody knows you’ve got… _issues_ with ladies, and I guess I kinda look like one right now.”

Lon’qu looked at Vaike with mix of irritation and sadness. “… This is stupid.”

Vaike laughed uncomfortably. “Hey, I know it’s hard not to feel dumb when you’re in the presence of the mighty _Vaike_ , but I promise, you got nothin’ to worry about!”

Snorting, Lon’qu shook his head, easing down onto the bed with Vaike. “I… have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Vaike tilts his head to one side. “’Bout what?”

“About…” Lon’qu blinked, apparently taken aback by just how quickly Vaike forgot what they were talking about. “Never mind.” Taking a deep breath, he clambered over the Ylissean, one hand coming up under Vaike’s chin as he tilted the Shepherd’s head up into a kiss. Vaike leaned into him eagerly—they hadn’t done anything like this since…

Since this whole mess started. But Lon’qu was determined to overcome his more irrational feelings. He pulled away from Vaike, only to duck his head down and kiss gingerly at the side of his neck. One hand crept up under the warrior’s tunic, feeling at the swell of his belly. At nearly eight months, he’d grown proportionately, and was starting to look… _big_. In more places than one. Lon’qu kept kissing and sucking at Vaike’s shoulder, rubbing small circles against the tight skin, only pausing once when the feeling of something bumping into his hands distracted against him.

Vaike shrunk away, almost shy. “Heh. Sorry. He’s pretty good at ruinin’ the mood.”

Lon’qu felt himself smile. “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“Have we met?” Vaike scoffed, then laughed and hunched his shoulders when Lon’qu ducked back down to nip under his chin. “With all this raw, untapped, _manly_ power, there’s no way I’m havin’ a girl.”

“Manly, huh?” Lon’qu inched back again, a flat, emotionless look on his face. “I must be seeing things, then.”

Vaike cocked an eyebrow. His face was a little flushed, and he had to swallow and catch his breath before answering, the dome of his stomach rising exaggeratedly each time he inhaled.  “Y-Yeah? Like what?”

Lon’qu paused. This… would be the hard part. His fingers twitched and he hesitated, heart racing in his chest. A huge part of him wanted to call it off. He really wanted to leave, and continue hiding from Vaike. But the idea of getting under Vaike’s  skin, making him blush and squirm and _stutter_ …

For once, Lon’qu felt he’d found a pretty enough picture to snap him out of his phobia.

“Like this.” He moved his hand higher, fingers sinking into the ample, pillowy flesh of Vaike’s breast. Even though he pushed himself to show no emotion, Lon’qu knew his face reddened a bit at the feel of it. Not nearly as much as Vaike’s, though. The Shepherd went scarlet, hunching into himself, fingers clenching tightly at the covers.

“O-Oh. Right.” Vaike gulped loudly, wriggling slowly, like he wanted to get away from Lon’qu’s hand, but couldn’t quite find the strength. “That p-part… doesn’t count.”

“It’s not the only one.” Lon’qu slowly tugged at Vaike’s trousers, pulling them down with a bit of difficulty. They didn’t fit right anymore—Vaike’s thighs were softer, a little thicker, and his hips were noticeably wider. Lon’qu felt like someone else was in control of his body as he gripped Vaike’s legs tightly, pulling those thighs around either side of his waist. Rolling Vaike’s shirt up to his collarbone, Lon’qu had to watch as his chest all but fell out of the fabric. Panting, he took a second to steel himself before ducking forward to nip and suck greedily at the Ylissean’s chest. As he latched on to one soft, pink nipple, Vaike flat out _whimpered_ , startling Lon’qu. But he quickly decided he’d do just about anything to hear the sound again, so he kept it up, pursing his lips against one of Vaike’s breasts and squeezing and kneading at the other. He kept pawing at Vaike’s new curves, namely, his impressive bust, one arm looped around the other man’s thick back to keep him at just the right angle.

“N-Now you’re just...” As Lon’qu finally paused, leaning away to admire the view, Vaike let his head loll back, whole face still beet red. “B-Bein’… _mean_.” The way he struggled to string together a sentence… Well, as much as it seemed wrong to apply the word to Vaike, it was _cute_.

“I’m sorry,” Lon’qu muttered. He wasn’t.

Fumbling with his trousers for a moment, he worked them down to his thighs, making his intentions perfectly clear. Then, he grabbed Vaike’s length for just a second, giving it a few long, teasing strokes with his thumb before he moved his hand. Vaike let out an impatient noise, and Lon’qu had to hold back a chuckle. After a pause, he moved his fingers downward, feeling between Vaike’s thighs gingerly. He froze when his fingers brushed up against something soft and damp. 

Vaike… hadn’t mentioned that. Not that Lon’qu could think of a single time when it would’ve been appropriate to bring up. For a second, he felt stuck, warring with himself and totally unsure of what to do. But then Vaike whimpered again, giving a clumsy, impatient jerk of his hips, and Lon’qu came back to his senses. After stroking Vaike’s side soothingly a few times, he lined himself before gingerly pushing in.

Vaike reacted like a cat in heat, flat out yowling and scrabbling at the covers with his hands. Lon’qu’s breath hitched; he was already struggling to hold himself together as he hunched forward, giving a fast, badly-restrained buck. While they were like this, he barely even noticed how heavy Vaike was, instead yanking more of the Shepherd’s lower half onto his lap. Leaning down again, he clamped on to Vaike’s breast a second time, sucking on it greedily. He kept pressing in deeper, letting Vaike stay passive, trying to respond to the Ylissean’s movements as he rolled his hips, slowly at first, then steadily faster, pushing them both towards that irresistible peak. Distantly, he noted that something tasted shockingly sweet, but he didn’t give himself time to wonder why. Instead, he moved his head up, kissing Vaike with enough intensity to knock the air out of him.

Vaike threw his arms around Lon’qu, pulling him as close as he possibly could with his pregnant belly in the way. The feel of it pressing into his own flat abdomen drove Lon’qu wild. With one last, drawn out stroke, he finished, shuddering violently as he held himself up, arched over Vaike. The blond’s eyes were closed; it looked like he was gasping and struggling to breathe, as though he’d just finished hours upon hours of training. His chest was covered in red marks from Lon’qu’s attention, and a sheen of sweat was clear on his forehead. Finally, Lon’qu’s arms threatened to give out, so he flopped down on the mattress next to Vaike, throwing an arm lazily over the Shepherd when he immediately curled up to him.

“Think that helped?” Vaike laughed, and his voice was raspy. “… You ever gonna tell me why you get so freaked out?”

Lon’qu frowned. Only Cherche knew about the girl. About Lon’qu’s hometown. Thankfully, she certainly wasn’t the type to spread it around. And Lon’qu wasn’t the type to discuss these things, and more importantly, Vaike wasn’t the type to listen. He’d try, sure, but he was a lot better at helping in other ways. “… Yeah.”

“Cool!” Vaike beamed, sluggishly pulling his headband off. His hair _immediately_ sprung up to look almost twice as big. Lon’qu felt his mouth twitch, like he wanted to smile. “’Cuz, between you and me—seriously, this doesn’t leave the bedroom, all right?”

Lon’qu nodded.

Vaike glanced around, obviously more worried about this being overheard than any of the things that just transpired. “I’m thinkin’ Teach might be actually able to learn a thing or two from _you_.”

Lon’qu realized this would be a perfect time for a joke about private lessons, but he wasn’t the type to joke, period. He’d let Vaike come up with that one on his own. (He would, too. Eventually. …Might take him a very long time.) “Maybe.”

Vaike yawned, eyelids drooping shut. Lon’qu watched him fall asleep, first sinking more completely into the mattress. After a while, he inched forward, burying his face in Lon’qu’s chest and starting to snore loudly.

Lon’Qu snorted. Ducking his head, he planted a light kiss on Vaike’s mane, mumbling as quietly as he possibly could, “… Thank you.”

 

 *

 

"See? I told you they made up!"

"Nowi, we should go," Ricken hissed, pulling his hat partway down around his face.

"Huh?" Nowi glanced around at her companions. "How come? I thought you wanted to see!"

"Keep your voice down!" Lissa ordered. "We shouldn't even be here."

"Then how come you're all still standing here, huuuuh?" Nowi giggled. "You're all just as happy as I am! Admit it!"

"Yes, we're happy!" Ricken whispered. "It's great that they finally worked things out. But this isn't something we should be seeing."

"They won't care," Nowi insisted. "They're asleep."

"Darling," Maribelle murmured, placing a hand on Nowi and steering her away. "Wanting to keep up your 'innocent little girl' act is all well and good, but there's no reason for us to stay and watch." She started to shut the door, then paused, smiling as she studied the sleeping figures inside. Vaike and Lon’qu were nestled under the covers, with Vaike nuzzled up under the swordsman's chin, both carrying on dreaming like nothing in the world could wake them. Not that Maribelle wanted to test that theory. Sighing wistfully, she closed the door the rest of the way, then gave Nowi a quick wink. "Besides! New mothers need their rest."

 

 *

 

"How about jousting?" Vaike walked—or, rather, waddled—alongside Lon’qu as the swordsman scanned the library shelves. "I always figured the only way _the Vaike_ could get even more intimidatin' would be if I got on the back of a war beast!"

"No." Lon’qu pulled a book out, opening it and studying it casually.

"Is it the weapon part or the horse part that's buggin' you?" Vaike shifted from side to side almost anxiously. He probably had to use the bathroom, but he usually put it off for as long as possible, not liking how frequently he had to go thanks to the weight on his bladder. "What about just... horseback riding?"

"No." Lon’qu didn't even look up from the page.

"Okay! Got it. No horses. How 'bout dragons?" Vaike groaned when Lon’qu immediately shook his head. "What about Nowi?"

Lon’qu sighed, closing the book and gingerly sliding it back into its spot. "Got a better idea." He wrapped an arm loosely around Vaike's back, then grabbed crassly at his rear.

Vaike jumped. "Whoa!" He squirmed a bit more. "Heh. I see what you mean. You want ol' Teach all to yourself, huh? Hey, there's no shame in that!" He kept fidgeting, placing his hands on top of his belly, most likely without even realizing it. "I'm pretty irresistible."

"Hm. Agree to disagree." Lon’qu paused. "Either way, you need to pee first."

Vaike's eyes widened, like he was only just now realizing his squirming was connected to that. "Oh. Good idea!"

He shuffled out of the library, and, after hesitating briefly, Lon’qu followed him. Vaike could probably find the bathroom on his own. _Probably_. Still. Better to be safe than sorry.

 

*

 

"Bedrest." Lon’qu echoed, like he didn’t fully understand what the Libra was trying to say.

"Yes." Libra shook his head. "I realize that, given Vaike's... _temperament_ , this is not an ideal situation. But I've been keeping close watch over his condition, and the other healers agree with me. He should be confined to his quarters for the rest of his pregnancy."

Lon’qu just stared. "... Vaike. You've... _met him_ , right?"

Libra exhaled, giving Lon’qu a flat, unamused look. "Believe me. We've been over the other options." He shook his head, muttering, "I know it's a lot to ask, especially with how hard you've been working to keep him from hurting himself on a daily basis. Just... do your best."

Lon’qu narrowed his eyes. "Hmph."

 

*  

 

"And I gotta stay in bed, or else the kid's gonna... " Vaike trailed off, then made a strange gesture, something akin to somebody dropping a large squash from a high place and letting it splat onto the ground.

"Yes." Lon’qu nodded. Well, it might have been true. Lon’qu wasn't _technically_ lying.

"Whoa." Vaike shifted awkwardly on the bed. His hands were almost always on his stomach these days, which stuck out unmistakably. Even the impressive bust he'd developed was dwarfed by the sheer size of his belly. Lon’qu had wondered, for a brief, panicked period, whether it might be twins, but Libra assured them it wasn't. "Kind of a lot of pressure." He nodded stoically. "Not that it's a big deal for _the Vaike_. Handlin' pressure's my middle name."

Lon’qu snorted quietly. "That's two words."

"It could still work!" Vaike pouted, then grinned. "Hey! Did I ever tell you 'bout the time I made a Plegian General cry?" He didn't wait for Lon’qu to confirm or deny whether he'd heard the story, instead diving into it immediately. "Yep! Knocked him right off his horse, and he was just lyin' there, totally winded, snot running down his face. And he's like, 'I'll give you anything! Gold! Women! The finest protection our army can offer!' and I'm all like, 'In your _dreams_ , old dude. Teach just _schooled_ you.'"

"... You'll be back out there soon." Vaike was probably too simple-minded to even realize it, but Lon’qu knew he must be worried he'd never make it back into the fray.

Vaike blinekd, then scoffed. "Pff. Duh! Can't keep me down _that_ easy." He paused, cupping his stomach, trying to grab at its firm surface as if it were made of fat, instead of... _baby_. "Um. _This_ easy."

"Mm." Lon’qu nodded, sitting up and rolling his knuckles gently over Vaike's back. “Guess I was worried over nothing."

The Shepherd groaned appreciatively, leaning forward as much as his belly would allow and slouching dramatically. "Ohh, yeah. That's the spot."

Lon’qu knew Vaike was desperate to be treated normally again, and that he was all but counting down the days until he could run out of the barracks with his axe in hand. But, in the privacy of his own mind, Lon’qu had to admit it: he wouldn't mind much if Vaike stayed this way for a while longer.

 

* 

 

“Woo!” Vaike stretched a little, arching his back and grunting. Lon’qu hated how even watching him do that much prompted an instant response in his… _libido_. “Finally getting’ some fresh air! Ol’ Teach was _really_ starting to go stir crazy. Bet you’re glad I talked you into it, right?”

“Sure.” He didn’t talk Lon’qu into anything, and he wouldn’t even be out here if Lon’qu hadn’t gone through some intense deliberation before deciding, yes, it would probably be fine. Probably. They were watching the others train, but there was no guarantee Vaike wouldn’t try to jump over the hedge and join the fray. Well, maybe not jump. Probably _fall_. He’d gotten pretty round, after all.

“Sully’s lookin’ kinda sloppy.” Vaike grabbed onto the fence, almost like he wanted to catapult himself over it. “I should probably give her a couple pointers.”

Lon’qu clamped his hand tightly around Vaike’s shoulder. “Later.” It was bad enough the Ylissean wanted to keep lifting weights, even into his final weeks of pregnancy. Lon’qu supposed he should be glad Vaike made it as far as he did without anything happening.

“I’m tellin’ you, when I get back out there, I’m gonna train so hard that next time we fight, I’ll kick your butt into next week.” Vaike sighed longingly, slouching against the fence.

“Sure you will.” Lon’qu scoffed internally. “I can’t think of a nobler reason to pick up a weapon.”

“What? You’re not gonna tell me how you never lose a fight, and that I’m totally dreaming when I talk about how bad I’ll beat you next time?”

Lon’qu raised an eyebrow. Hm. Maybe Vaike wasn’t as dense as he seemed. Only _almost_ as dense as he seemed. “I guess not.” He shook his head, giving the slightest smirk. “I think I might be able to accept losing to you. I’m already on top where it matters.”

Vaike frowned. “… I don’t get it.”

Lon’qu sighed. “Never mind.”

They stood like that for a moment—Vaike slouching against the fence and Lon’qu standing stiffly at his side. Then, without warning, Vaike leaned against him, cackling as Sully landed a blow that knocked Stahl right off his steed. Just like that, Lon’qu was hit with two realizations.

One, that he was happier than he had been in a very long time.

And, two, that Vaike was currently leaking heavily through his tunic.

Eyes bugging out of his head, Lon’qu turned away. He’d been doing better, _much_ better, but something this undeniably feminine was making it hard to utilize any of his progress.

“Hey, you feelin’ okay?” Vaike straightened up, peering at him questioningly, blissfully unaware of his… problem. “Heh. Wait. I know what’s up. You’re picturing our next match, aren’tcha? Yeah, I’d be pretty damn scared if I was goin’ up against me, too.” He was just going to go on and on, wasn’t he? “Since I finall—I mean, since I caught up with you, you’ve probably been shaking in your boots at the thought! Heh. Don’t you worry that pretty little head, though. _The Vaike_ can be the most intimidating guy in the garrison, sure, but I promise, he don’t bite.” As soon as he said ‘I promise’, Vaike jerked his thumb towards his chest, probably forgetting about all the excess… padding. His thumb sunk in a little, and he froze, noticing the dampness bleeding into his shirt at last.

“Uh.” Normally, Lon’qu was completely used to being at a loss for words. But lately, with Vaike, he’d been forgetting what that felt like. Now, though? It all came rushing back. Unlike the words. No words came rushing, _period_.

“Wh-What the hell?” Vaike let out a squeak—Lon’qu noted, in a very poorly timed way, that he hadn’t heard him make that sort of sound outside the bedroom. “Did I just _sweat_ through my shirt?” Lon’qu winced, begging the Gods not to make him explain this. “Oh no.” Ah. That was well timed. “Oh Gods, that is _not_ sweat!” Vaike wrapped his arms around his chest, face turning crimson. “O-Okay! It’s okay! Nobody saw. Nobody’s looking.” He glanced around desperately, letting out a pleading, “Right?” He started inching towards the doors to the barracks, still looking around and twitching like a caged animal. “L-Let’s get out of here. But keep it… Uh. What’s that word? The not-a-big-deal word?”

“Subtle,” mumbled Lon’qu, dazed.

“Yeah! That one! The… don’t-make-a-scene word.”

Shaking his head, Lon’qu forced himself to snap out of it. Trudging forward, he grabbed Vaike’s back, then slipped another hand under his knee, lifting him up bridal-style. The Ylissean was shorter than Lon’qu, but denser, too, and Lon’qu forgot to consider the added weight of the baby. “… Heavy.” Still, he could manage.

Vaike wasn’t pleased. “ _Seriously!?”_ He squirmed as much as he could with his arms still tight around his chest. “How is this not making a scene? People are staring!” He kicked uselessly. “C’mon! This isn’t funny. Put me down already!” Lon’qu shook his head, and Vaike moaned, curling into himself miserably. “… This is so humiliating.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Lon’qu muttered, ignoring the way Lissa balked as he walked by.

“I’ll kick your _butt_ later,” Vaike grumbled.

Lon’qu rolled his eyes. “To you? That’s the same thing.”

 

* 

 

“Nope. Still mad.” Vaike pouted. The Ylissean would never call it that, but Lon’qu knew a pout when he saw one. Vaike lay on the bed, hands folded over his enormous stomach. He looked more tired than Lon’qu had ever seen him, and altogether, like a different person—his jawline was a little softer, and he’d filled out so much in the chest and hips that Maribelle had stopped making her town square women jokes, realizing they weren’t quite an exaggeration anymore. Even his arms had lost a small bit of definition, though they were still visibly brawny and thick. Libra said he was due any day now, and that his pelvis had widened enough for a natural birth to be possible. After being told that, Vaike seemed to be unsure of whether or not he should be celebrating.   

“I didn’t say anything,” Lon’qu sighed, sitting down on the bed and deadpanning, “Ow,”  when Vaike kicked at him clumsily. After the angry foot-nudging (because that’s what it was; Vaike couldn’t lift his knees enough while sitting without his belly getting in the way) started to get annoying, he snapped, “I’m _not_ going to apologize for keeping you from making a fool of yourself in public.”

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about!” Vaike groaned, then frowned. “Wait. Are you… Are you talkin’ about the carrying stuff? Because that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Carrying stuff?” Lon’qu echoed, confused.

“The… “ Vaike blushed, struggling to sit up, finally curling his hand under his belly and heaving himself forward. “You know! When you…” He mimed picking something up and cradling it.

“Oh.” Lon’qu wrinkled his nose slightly. “That’s what you’re upset about? That’s idiotic.”

“Hey!” Vaike glowered. “I don’t tell you what _you’re_ allowed to be upset about, mister ‘has a… _woman_ … ff… Pho…”

“Phobia,” Lon’qu finished.

“Thanks.” Vaike nodded, then froze and shook his head. “Wait! No! _Not_ ‘thanks.’ I’m still mad.”

“Why?” Lon’qu let Vaike try to push him off the bed, leaning into his hands a little so the action was futile. “There’s no shame in having an ally help you, especially when you’re in poor physical condition.”

“It ain’t about that, all right?” Vaike swallowed, then shrunk into himself almost meekly. “I just… don’t like feelin’ helpless, okay?”

Lon’qu frowned, suddenly feeling…

Well. Like an ass. If anyone should be able to relate to that, it would be him. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he ducked his head. “… I’m sorry. If that’s how it makes you feel, I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Vaike nodded again, then leaned back against the mass of pillows behind him. “Besides, I can still _walk_.”

Lon’qu smirked just slightly. “More or less.”

That earned him another kick from Vaike. “Watch it.”

“Sorry.” Lon’qu scooted closer, now that Vaike was letting him, easing down next to him and rubbing his stomach. Sure, most of this process was fascinating to him, and something about Vaike in this condition got to him in ways he never would have imagined. But, more importantly, belly rubs were a surprisingly efficient way to make the Shepherd shut up for a while.

“Yeah, you’re just… sayin’…. That…” Vaike’s eyes drooped shut and he dropped his head against Lon’qu, nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder. Lon’qu knew Vaike was counting the seconds until this ordeal was over.

Him, though? He’d said it before and he’d admit it again: he could certainly wait a little longer.

 

*

 

Vaike went into labor a week later, four days past when Libra estimated he was due. Lon’qu was away with the rest of the Shepherds, clearing bandits from the eastern border of the city. As if the Gods themselves were testing him, shortly after he received the news, the clouds that had been brewing finally opened up and unleashed a thunderstorm. Frederick lent Lon’qu his horse, and Lon’qu barely found it in him to appreciate the gesture, driving the animal to its absolute limits as he raced back to the garrison.

When he finally reached the medical wing, he simply shoved past the guards, throwing one to the ground and bolting past the other, sprinting towards the curtained-off bed at the end of the hall. Libra all but crashed into him, grabbing at his shoulders and forcing him to stop.

“Calm down,” he ordered, tightening his grip and forcing Lon’qu to go still. “Everything’s fine. Vaike is doing well. But unless you want to be a detriment to this whole process, you must collect yourself.” Libra’s voice grew quieter. “He needs you, and you are the one who should be reassuring _him_.”

Lon’qu swallowed, heart racing as he tried to peer around Libra’s shoulders. Finally, the healer’s words seemed to hit him, and he hung his head guiltily. “… I’m Sorry.”

Libra walked over to the curtain, pulling it aside, then beckoning to Lon’qu. Lon’qu rushed over, less sure-footed than he’d ever been in his life, then paused. He stood there for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath, clenching his fists and forcing himself to calm down. After he got as close to relaxed as he was going to get, Lon’qu sank down onto the stool next to the bed. When he looked up, he felt likeh the wind had been punched out of him at the sight that lay before him.

Vaike was curled up on his side, arms clutching at the sheets, and face buried against the pillow. His brow was covered in sweat, and his whole body seemed to tense up, then tremble, then go limp, over and over again. Lon’qu gawked, horrified with himself for letting it get this bad, for being _gone_ , but after a moment, he finally forced himself to make a move, reaching out one shaky hand and gingerly smoothing Vaike’s wild locks.

Vaike slowly moved one arm, peering out over it, but not lifting his head. “H-Hey.”

“’M sorry,” mumbled Lon’qu. Seemed like all he could do was apologize.

“I-It’s cool. R-Really.” Vaike grinned, but it looked a little too pained. “You think… Vaike’s n-not used to this level of punishment? I c-can take it! I eat cramps like th-this for breakfast.”

Lon’qu shook his head, laughing hoarsely. He ducked down, pressing his temple lightly against Vaike’s—his forehead damp from rain, Vaike’s from sweat. “Shut up.”

Vaike let out a scandalized squawk. “Y-You can’t… talk to me like that. I’m havin’ your _b-baby_.”

Lon’qu placed a hand lightly on Vaike’s abdomen, rubbing slowly before he leaned in to give Vaike a gentle kiss. “I’ll tease you all I want, understand?” He put a little more of his weight on the mattress, halfway lying next to the Ylissean. “I know you can take it.”

 

*

 

At dawn, most of the residents of the garrison had returned to the barracks, and by the time the sun rose, everyone had heard the news.

Vaike had given birth to a small, but healthy, baby girl. He’d expressed disappointment, asking Libra and the other healers if they were certain she was a she, but quieted down after being reassured that, yes, they were.

They named her Ke’ri, and after pestering Lon’qu for a good twenty minutes about where he’d gotten the name, Vaike grumbled to himself and promptly fell asleep.

 

* 

 

“No way.” Vaike shook his head, hunching under the covers as if Libra, Lon’qu, and the other healers were advancing on him menacingly instead of simply standing over his bed. “I can’t do that!”

“It isn’t that big of a deal,” Lon’qu insisted. “You’ve been through worse.”

“Wh-What about a… y’know! What’d Chrom get when Lucina was little?” Vaike screwed his whole face up, apparently wracking his brain for whatever phrase he likely didn’t even remember. “Damp… lady?”

“Wet nurse,” Lon’qu answered. “But you’re not royalty. And this isn’t an emergency. So you don’t need one.”

“Yeah? Well, I got an emergency right here!” Vaike paused, then insisted, “The emergency’s… me not wantin’ to do this!”

Lon’qu glanced up at the rest of the healers. “Would you give us a moment?” As soon as they stepped away, Lon’qu lowered himself to Vaike’s eye-level, wincing as Ke’ri screeched. “Would you just do it already? We both know you’re more than _capable_.” He ignored the way his stomach dropped almost excitedly when he said that. One problem at a time was plenty.

Vaike glared at Lon’qu, then sighed, sinking into the pillows miserably as the sound of an infant wailing seemed to finally wear him down. “Just… look over there, okay?”

Lon’qu rolled his eyes, but obeyed, turning around on the stool and staring blankly at the nearest wall.

From behind him, Vaike muttered sadly to himself. “My pecs are _never_ gonna be the same.”

 

*

 

Vaike and Lon’qu left the Shepherds after that, but moved back in a year later, with Ke’ri in tow, and stayed for good. Many of the Shepherds privately agreed it was a shame the girl didn’t take after her father more. With bronze skin, a wild blond mane, and a penchant for stripping off her clothes to run around naked, she was essentially a copy of her mother. It wasn’t an abnormal occurrence to have the five-year-old approach someone’s table in the mess, flexing and asking if anyone wanted to feel her biceps. At other times, she’d be tailing the female Shepherds like a lovesick puppy, quoting the most overused pick-up lines any of them had heard.

At one point, she challenged Chrom to a fight, and became so enraged at his refusal that Lon’qu had to come and pry her off his arm himself. (Bite marks were visible there for several days after.)

Ricken settled himself under a tree in the courtyard one day, watching as Vaike played with Ke’ri, with Lon’qu standing by. He may not have been the tallest of the Shepherds, but he still absolutely dwarfed her. And yet, he acted as though every blow she landed on him was devastating, finally collapsing on the grass and moaning like a dying man.

“When you think about it, they should really thank you,” Panne mused. Ricken started and looked up at the Taguel, who now stood next to him, arms crossed sternly. “Things would have never ended up like this if it weren’t for you.”

“Honestly?” Ricken shook his head, laughing weakly. “I’m just glad they aren’t angry with me.”

Lon’qu dashed over, prying Ke’ri off Vaike when she started to grow too aggressive. Panne chuckled upon seeing this, which startled Ricken even more than her appearing out of nowhere.

“No,” she said. “They have absolutely nothing to be angry about.”

 


End file.
